


We The Divine, We The Desperate

by livecement



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Characters With Violent Pasts, Eventual Smut, I will update tags as I go, It will get violent at some point, It's minor but it's there and I love it, Modern Fantasy, Multi, Queerplatonic Takeda Ittetsu/Ukai Keishin, Slow Burn, because I'm useless at this honestly, so I'm mentioning it, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-07-11 00:37:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7017055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livecement/pseuds/livecement
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akaashi Keiji thought he had left a world of danger behind him, but when he runs into a strange man with wild hair and golden eyes on the street, he finds himself dragged into a world he never wanted to be a part of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It started in the street

            The jingling of a bell sounded as Keiji pushed his way out of the convenience store and onto the busy street. It had been raining when he entered, but now all that was left was an overcast sky and a light mist. The air was heavy with the humidity of a late May afternoon; the moisture exacerbating the sounds of the city around him. The noise made him cringe and miss the quiet drone of the awful music that had been playing inside the store.

After zipping up his light rain jacket Keiji cracked open the energy drink he had purchased—his second of the day—and joined the throng of the people walking down the sidewalk. He took a sip from the can and relished the tangy taste before swallowing. The liquid burned a little down his throat. He knew his sister wouldn't approve of him drinking this shit, let alone two in one day, but he'd barely slept three hours the night before and he needed to stay awake.

As if she knew he was thinking about her, his sister's text tone went off in his pocket. He pulled out his phone while taking another sip from his drink to read it. His brow furrowed when he realised he'd already missed three earlier texts from her.

 

**Masuyo:**           [2:02]  _I'm here!_

 [2:07] _The ever punctual Akaashi Keiji is five minutes late? Gasp!_

 [2:15] _Lunch is definitely on you!_

 [2:20] _Where are you?!?!_

His eyes quickly scanned up the screen and he cursed when he saw the time. He was somehow twenty minutes late for their lunch date. The lack of sleep must have been affecting him more than he thought because he could have sworn he had time. He chucked his still full drink into a nearby bin and took off running down the street, careful to avoid other pedestrians. He wasn't far from the cafe they'd chosen, and he figured he could make it there fairly quickly.

Part way down the street he remembered he should text Masuyo back to let her know he was on his way. He pulled out his phone and started typing a brusque message as he continued to run. He hit send and looked up just in time to run into a man standing right in front of him.

A man who may as well have been a brick wall.

Keiji dropped to the ground hard, flinching at both the impact and the sound of his phone clattering to the ground somewhere beside him.  He swore quietly as he sat up straight. He picked up his phone, and pocketed it quickly, not caring to know of any damage just then. He looked forward and was met with a pair of fancy looking sneakers that he assumed belonged to the apparently _very_ sturdy man he ran into.

"I'm very sorry," he started to apologise while he moved to stand, making a face at the feeling of wet sidewalk grime pressing into the palms of his hands. "I should have been watching where I was going."

Keiji wiped his hands off on his slim black jeans, straightened, and finally looked up at the man. He'd expected to see an expression of perpetual anger that city folk usually wore, but instead was met with a large pair of golden eyes blinking at him in shock.

"Sorry, did I hurt you? Are you okay?" Keiji asked.

The man just continued to stare at him, confusion twisting his features. Keiji stood there, not entirely sure what to do, and took in the man's appearance; his hair was ash blonde with dark roots grown in unevenly, styled into messy, ridiculous spikes; he was tall and quite broad, so Keiji doubted he could have done too much harm by running in to him, especially considering _he_ was the one who'd been knocked on his ass while the other man had remained completely unmoved.

"Well," he said as he fiddled with his fingers in habit, unsettled by the man's flagrant staring, "Sorry again. Have a good day."

He bowed his head and set off down the street once again.

He was definitely going to have to buy his sister dessert.

 

 

When Keiji finally arrived at the cafe—his strange encounter all but forgotten—he scanned the tables for his sister. A waving arm caught his eye from the corner of the room and he walked over quickly, an apologetic expression forming on his face. She stood up to greet him, placing one hand on her hip and the other on her pregnant belly, which had grown considerably since Keiji last saw her.

"You sure took your time," she said, raising an eyebrow.

"I know, I know. I'll grovel for your forgiveness later."

Masuyo smiled wide and stepped forward to wrap her arms around him. He returned the embrace and kissed her cheek before pulling back to place a hand on her round stomach.

"You look good," he said with a small smile.

She scoffed lightly and pulled away.

"I think the word you were looking for," she paused to lower herself into her chair, "Was fat."

Keiji rolled his eyes and took off his jacket before taking his own seat across from her. It was true that she had gained a healthy amount of weight throughout her pregnancy, but he would hardly call her fat. Besides, Keiji had seen her at a time when she was so thin he feared she might break at the slightest breeze. He'd seen her with hallowed cheeks and frighteningly pale skin, looking almost like a walking corpse. Looking at her now, healthy and glowing from the new life she was creating, he was only thankful that either of them could have the luxury of being fat.

After taking their seats they were quiet as Masuyo looked at him with narrowed clear blue eyes.

"You look like shit," she said after a moment.

He gave her a dry look. "Thanks."

She only poured the tea she had evidently already ordered for them and raised her eyebrows, waiting for an explanation.

He sighed before saying, "I haven't been sleeping much lately."

Her expression changed to one of understanding then. "The nightmares again?"  

He nodded his head and then took a sip of his tea, burning his tongue a little in the process.

"They've been getting more frequent," he paused for a moment and looked to the side, "And worse."

"Keiji," his sister reached forward and placed a hand on his, "When are you going to go back to therapy like I keep asking you to?"

He sighed and took his hand away gently. "I've already told you that I can't afford that."

"And I've already told you that I would pay for it."

"I'm not letting you do that." He met her steady gaze evenly.

"Keiji, the things that we have been through and seen—"

"Are in the past now," he said firmly, "I don't need a therapist, Masuyo. I just need to figure out how to get a deeper sleep."

They held eye contact for a few beats, Keiji playing with his fingers, before Masuyo sighed and ran a hand through her dark brown hair. "You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?"

He smirked and was just about to give a smart reply when a waiter approached the table and set down a plate of food in front of each of them.

He raised a quizzical eyebrow at his sister who gave him a smirk of her own. "You always get the same thing from this place, so I ordered for your late ass."

A feeling of fondness swelled in his chest—fondness for one of the only people he'd ever considered family—and he looked away as his cheeks warmed, embarrassed at the show of familiarity. When he glanced back at his sister she was smiling as she rolled her eyes at his demure.

They started to eat and Keiji chewed his food slowly while staring at the wood grain pattern of the table, and his mind started to wonder off somewhere else. He heard someone clear their throat and he snapped his eyes back up to Masuyo, who was looking at him with an amused expression.

"Sorry," He sat up straighter in his chair, "How are you doing?"

She snorted, and Keiji knew that she was laughing at his inadequate conversation skills. "I'm doing well, I guess," she pushed around her salad with her fork as she spoke, "I sold a painting not long ago, and Kentarou's construction company just got a big contract with the city. So, yeah, things are good."

"What about the baby?" he asked around a bite of his food.

Confusion flickered across her face for a moment, and then she looked down at her swollen stomach and figured out what he was talking about, "Oh right! I'm pregnant!" She laughed.

"Pregnancy brain getting to you?" Keiji asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Something like that," she replied with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "I went for another ultrasound."

"Were you able to find out the sex this time?"

She sighed, "No, this time the technician said it was because the baby was in a weird position, but I'm starting to think she's just not very good at her job."

Keiji breathed out a laugh, and took a sip of tea. "That's too bad," he placed the cup back down, "Everything else is fine, though?"

"Yeah, everything looked great, and they said it's got an incredibly strong heartbeat. I swear Kentarou looks close to tears every time we get to listen to it."

"That's hard to imagine." His sister's boyfriend was one of the toughest looking people he'd ever met in his life, and given how Keiji'd grown up, that was really saying something.

"He's a sweetheart, honest." She smiled wickedly.

He snorted, and returned to his food. He listened as his sister told him about her most recent art projects, or at least he tried. The lack of sleep was really starting to wear him down, and his concentration suffered for it. He scanned the cafe, which had gotten busier since he'd arrived, to keep his eyes busy so they didn't drift closed on him. Suddenly he found his gaze locked with a pair of fierce golden eyes, and he jolted.

"Keiji?" He turned and looked at his sister who was looking at him warily. "You okay?"

He glanced back to where he was looking before but the golden eyes were gone.

"Yeah, I just..." he trailed off for a moment, and then cleared his throat, "I think I've had one too many energy drinks today."

"Akaashi Keiji!" she exclaimed, shaking her head in disappointment, "I keep telling you to stop poisoning yourself with that shit. You're going to die of a heart attack before you're thirty!"

"I think it'll take a little longer than that for them to kill me," he replied dryly.

"You're not funny," she said, but a hint of a smile played on her face.

 

They finished their lunch—including dessert at his sister's insistence—and caught up for a little while longer before Keiji found himself back on the busy street. He waved a goodbye to Masuyo, who was being driven away by her boyfriend, and smirked inwardly as he reminded himself to tease Kentarou about crying over ultrasounds the first chance he got.

He started walking down the street towards his apartment. The air was even stickier now that the rain had completely let up, and he could only imagine what the humidity was doing to his curly hair. He patted it down with a hand self-consciously and tried not to look in any reflective surfaces.

Vanity was not becoming.

As he walked his mind wandered, something it did far too often lately, and he found himself thinking about the strange man he had run into earlier. The more he thought about it the more peculiar the whole incident seemed. The man had been bizarrely strong on his feet—unbelievably so. Keiji didn't care that the guy was tall and incredibly muscular; it was weird how he hadn't moved _at all_ when Keiji slammed into him _._ Keiji was fairly certain he was going to find bruises when he got home.

The most striking thing, though—the thing that stuck in Keiji's mind the most—was his eyes; large and a startling shade of gold.

Eyes that he swore he saw in the cafe.

Suddenly Keiji felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and he looked over his shoulder subtly. Nothing seemed to be visibly out of the ordinary, but his gut told him he was being followed.

He had learned from experience to always trust his instincts.

His brain kicked into gear, no longer foggy and tired, and he quickly glanced to the side to gauge the traffic in the street. When he saw an opening he promptly strode across the road and joined the crowd of people on the other side. Against his better judgement, he looked back across the street, and his chest tightened at what he saw: the man with the wild hair and golden eyes stood at edge of the road staring at him, his mouth slightly agape, his eyes wide, and brow furrowed.

Keiji's eyes flashed to the side and saw that a mass of traffic was about to come between them, so on impulse, he ran.

There was an alley a block down that he could cut through to get home faster. He'd have to climb the massive fence that blocked the end of it, but he was practiced at that sort of thing. He just hoped that it would throw off the other man if he gave chase.

Keiji cursed himself as he weaved through the crowd. He had known that he'd seen the man in the cafe, known something was off about the guy, but he had ignored his feelings. Living comfortably had made him sloppy. He felt his back pocket and cursed once again when his knife wasn't there. Masuyo would slap him upside the head for being so careless.

He cut into the alley and felt a small amount of relief, but that relief was cut short when he looked behind him: somehow the man had managed to catch up to him despite the traffic, and was running after him down the alley.

A wave of adrenaline shot through Keiji's spine, and he ran faster.  

As he approached the fence he quickly assessed what he had to work with to get himself over. He spotted a wooden crate in the corner and leapt onto it with one foot and used it to jump high enough to grab the top of the wooden fence. He hauled himself up, and threw his body over the top. He landed in a crouch, and was just about to straighten and continue running when the fence shook behind him and a shadow flew over top of him.

He froze.

There was no way.

Ha stared disbelievingly at the pair of shoes now standing in front of him—the same pair of fancy sneakers he'd seen when he'd been on the ground on the sidewalk earlier.

He rose slowly, chest heaving, and lifted his head to find himself face to face with the golden-eyed man. He did his best to keep his composure despite how screwed he probably was. He didn't have his knife, and based on how hard he'd fallen from running into the man earlier, there was no way he could overpower him. All he could do was try and figure out what the man wanted and work from there.

"Who are you," he spoke evenly, "and why are you following me?"

The man tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at him.

"The better question," he said with a low gravelly voice, taking a step towards Keiji, "is who in the hell are you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an idea I've been playing around with for a while now, and I finally got the courage to write it. I'm excited, if not a bit nervous, to be starting my first multi-chapter fic! Thanks for reading, and I hope you'll stick around for more updates!
> 
>  Not beta'd, so if you notice any mistakes lemme know.


	2. What?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akaashi would sell his soul for some decent sleep and the man with the golden eyes has no chill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been forty years since I posted the first chapter of this. I know and I'm sorry. I had a lot of planning to do (waaay more than I had thought) before I could continue writing, and then once I started I just kept hitting wall after wall. Then I got all anxious about my writing, and everything was just weird and blahhh. Anyway, I'd like to thank anyone who commented and gave kudos on the last chapter, or even bothered reading it despite my train wreck of a summary. You've probably all forgotten about this after such a long time (I would have) but hopefully you enjoy this chapter as well.   
> I've made some updates to the tags and the summary to hopefuly give a better idea of what this story is. Idk, I struggle with that stuff.
> 
> *** just a bit of a Trigger Warning here that's not enough to warrant a tag. At the beginning of this chapter it is very subtly implied that Keiji has suffered some sort of sexual trauma. Nothing is explicitly said, nor will it ever be, but it is alluded to and I just wanted to warn people of that.***
> 
> Fuck ok, after a century of struggle, here it is.

            Keiji had been chased through the streets of this city a multitude of times throughout his life; by the venders at the market for stealing food, by the cops for any number of reasons, and by frightening men with unsavoury agendas. He had grown used to being in dangerous situations, and after a while he had grown very tired of it. He wasn't supposed to have to deal with shit like this anymore, but yet there he stood at the mouth of an alleyway, having his personal space crowded by some asshole.

It pissed him off immensely.

He stood his ground and glared at the man whose nose was now only inches from his own. "Excuse me?"

"What the hell are you?" The man almost growled, his eyes flashing dangerously as he spoke, but Keiji wasn't about to let himself be intimidated.

"What are you talking about?" he spat, lacing each word with venom, "Do I need to remind you that _you're_ the one who stalked me to a cafe and then proceeded to chase me down an alleyway?"

"Wha-" the man scoffed and crossed his arms indignantly. "No, I know that."

"Excellent, then I would assume you can tell me why," Keiji said.

The man chewed on his lip almost uncertainly, and then looked him up and down slowly before meeting his eyes and saying, "You know exactly why."

The implication of those words sent a chill up Keiji's spine and he had to swallow down the bile that rose in his throat. He forced himself to keep eye contact with the man, and when he spoke his tone was severe. "Did you think if you cornered me I'd be an easy target?" A look of confusion flashed across the man's face, but Keiji was too angry to notice. "I will tell you right now that you will lose anything you try to put in or near me."

"Huh?" The man's brows were furrowed and his nose was scrunched up, looking at Keiji like he had four heads. Suddenly his eyebrows shot up and he brought his hands up in a panicked motion. "Wait—shit! No, that's not wha-aahh, I wouldn't-"

Keiji felt a small sense of relief, but it was short lived as he still didn't know what this man wanted from him, if not that.

As the man floundered, Keiji gave himself a second to think through some sort of plan. This guy seemed easy to fluster, and Keiji thought if he could keep him on the defensive, work him up enough, he might have a chance of getting away.

"So you're not a sick bastard, congratulations," he said, making the other man let out an affronted squawk, "But that still doesn't explain what the fuck you want from me."

When the man didn't respond, only looking at Keiji with a thoroughly vexed expression, Keiji increased the ferocity of his glare and took a step forward, forcing the other man to step back. The man puffed out his cheeks, eyes starting to look a little wild, and Keiji thought that he might get an answer, but instead of speaking the man just huffed angrily.

The wind started to pick up around them and Keiji resisted the urge to cross his arms against it, trying to keep a ready stance in case he needed to defend himself. However, judging by how riled up the man in front of him was, he doubted he would need to.

"Well, do you have a reason?" he jeered, stepping forward once more.

Thunder crackled in the distance, but Keiji didn't notice, too preoccupied with the man in front of him who seemed to be growing more irritable with each of Keiji's advances.

"Well?" Keiji moved forward again, and that appeared to be the final straw for the man.   

"You touched me!" he shouted in a tone that was bordering on petulant.

The sky had grown darker overhead and more thunder crackled closer by.

Keiji gaped at the man for a brief second, and then schooled his expression back into a scowl before taking another step forward. "Are you serious?" he asked, and the other man stumbled back. "Is this because I ran into you on the street?"

"Yeah," the man snapped, and then ran a hand through his hair in exasperation, "Well I mean-"

"Sorry." Keiji cut him off, stalking forward some more. By now they were at the end of the alley and the other man couldn't back up any further without stepping out on to the sidewalk.  "Did I scuff your fancy shoes?"

The man looked down and then back up before shaking his head with a frustrated look on his face. "No, that's not what I-"

"Then what is your problem?" Keiji bit out, jabbing two fingers into the other man's solid chest. Pain shot through his fingers at the action, and it took all of his self control not to wince. What the fuck was up with this guy?

The man in question looked down at Keiji's hand with wide eyes and started to sputter, "H-how—y-you're not supposed to—you can't—" Keiji took his hand away and the man placed his own hand over where Keiji's had been, clutching at his white sport jacket as if he had been burned.

Rain started to sprinkle down on them while the man continued to stare at his chest in bewilderment. Keiji was more than a little confused with what the guy's deal was, but he quickly realised that now might be his best chance to get away. He took a cautious step back, and when the man still didn't look up he took a swift step to the side and darted past him, careful not to bump into his shoulder, and ran out onto the sidewalk.

"H-hey!" he heard called behind him a few seconds later, but he ignored it and continued to run. A sudden flash of lightning lit up the sky above him that was immediately followed by a crack of thunder so close it reverberated through his entire body, making his heart pound. The rain started to come down harder, the wind whipping it into his face, and soaking through his clothes.

People around him ran for cover, ducking into the closest stores and restaurants, a few shouting in surprise over the suddenness of the storm. Anyone who was shocked by the strange weather was obviously new to the city. Freak storms were common in this area, and something Keiji had grown up being all too aware of; the weather becomes a lot more significant when you're living on the streets.

He wanted to take refuge like the others, not particularly fond of being soaking wet, but he wasn't too far from home now and didn't want to take the chance of being found again.

By the time he reached the small, shitty brick building that was his apartment he was out of breath, soaked to his bones, and absolutely miserable.

He stepped into the building, shoes squeaking, and stood under the dim lighting for a moment to catch his breath. His clothes were sticking to him uncomfortably, pieces of his hair were plastered to his face and forehead, and he was dripping water all over the place. He pushed his hair out of his face and looked down, grimacing at the puddle he was making. Someone was sure to post something passive-aggressive on the building's message board, but at least no one had seen that it was him.

Just as that thought went through his head, he heard the laundry room door slam shut and he looked up to see the crotchety old lady from room 103 shuffling down the short hallway. He cursed to himself but gave her a courteous nod when she got closer. She only glared at him as he expected her to; face puckered like it always was, and then glared down at the puddle at his feet.

"You're getting the floor wet," she griped.

"Sorry," he said mildly, "there's a bit of a drizzle outside."

Behind him rain and wind pounded at the door. The old lady looked back up at him, and her face somehow puckered even more.

They stared each other down for a few prolonged moments until she finally gave up and made her way to her door grumbling about telling the superintendant.

He rolled his eyes and headed towards the stairs, making sure his shoes squeaked as loudly as possible.

Two flights of stairs later he found himself finally stepping into his cramped apartment. His shoulders slumped and he sighed heavily as the door shut behind him. After taking off his shoes he went straight for the bathroom, peeling off his soaked clothing—flinching at the stiffness in his left shoulder when he lifted his shirt over his head—and dropping them to the floor on his way.

He started the bath water, pipes groaning, and tested the temperature before stopping the drain. The sound of the running water echoing off of the bathroom walls was comforting, laying over him like a blanket, and made his spine tingle pleasantly. He left the tub to get a towel from the linen closet, but as he passed the mirror above the sink, something in his reflection caught his eye. He turned to look at himself and immediately his eyes fell on his left shoulder, which was painted with a rather impressive display of blues and purples; he'd been correct about the collision leaving him with bruises. The sight reminded him of the dull ache in his fingers, and he looked down to find them slightly swollen, not broken he didn't think, but definitely sprained.

He sighed and looked back up at his reflection, thinking about what his sister had told him earlier, and reluctantly examined his face. He traced a finger over the deep blue shadows that resided under his green eyes; they were particularly bad today, and he somehow managed to look pale despite his bronze skin—sallow. No wonder Masuyo had been worried about him—he really did look like shit.

After a moment his gaze inevitably fell to his other shoulder: angry, red scarring stretched over it, starting at the base of his neck, and spreading down his pectoral.  As he eyed the mangled flesh a familiar feeling of bitterness began to crawl up his throat, and he forced his eyes away before his thoughts went places they didn't need to be.

Breaking away from his reflection, he left the room to quickly retrieve a towel, and when he came back the bathtub was almost full. He stepped in, allowing the hot water to sting his cold skin, and sank into the water until it was up to his chin. Heat seeped into his muscles, and his chilled body slowly started to thaw. He turned the taps off with his foot and an abrupt silence settled over the room.

In the quiet atmosphere Keiji stared at his warped reflection in the tub faucet.

He took a deep breath and held it.

And after a few moments, when he exhaled, he said:

"What the fuck."

With his mouth set into a tight line, he lifted his hands from the water and started toying with his fingers, absently pinching and pulling at the knuckles of his right ring finger. When he moved on to his middle finger, he flinched. Sighing, he held his hand out in front of him and examined the swollen fingers with his brows scrunched together. He chewed on the inside of his cheek and his eyes flickered down to his left shoulder briefly before going back to his hand. He breathed out heavily through his nose and then brought his wet hands to cover his face. He dragged them down, pulling the skin of his cheeks with them, and he allowed his hands to drop back into the water with a splash, rolling his eyes up at the ceiling with a scowl.  

When he didn't find whatever he was looking for up there, Keiji closed his eyes and let out a huff, blowing bubbles into the bathwater. He slid further down the tub, cramping his legs up at the end of it, until his ears were covered, and focused on the muted apartment noises humming through the water, allowing the sound to swallow up any other thoughts in his head until his mind went numb.

 

When he came back to himself he noticed that the bathwater had cooled considerably, and he frowned down at his pruned fingers, wondering how much time had passed.  

Not caring to linger in the cold water, he moved to stand, upsetting the still water around him, but as he straightened his vision became blurred and his stomach lurched. He threw a hand out to the wall to steady himself, and placed his other hand on his head which was now pounding with a headache.

Carefully, he lowered himself to sit on the edge of the tub, waiting for the dizziness to pass.  When the headache and faintness persisted even after a few minutes, he decided that all he could do was get to bed and go to sleep. Clearly the exhaustion had finally caught up with him.

On unsteady legs he carried himself to his bedroom, drying himself off crudely, and tried to focus on making it to his bed without passing out first. This proved to be difficult as his head throbbed and his vision swam. The distance from the bathroom to his bedroom was incredibly short, but as he stumbled, it felt like the safety of his bed was miles away. When he finally felt his knees hit the end of his bed, he allowed himself to fall forward gracelessly onto the mattress, landing with his face in the covers. In what he was sure was a truly pathetic display, he crawled up the bed until his head reached the pillows, and with the rain battering against the window lulling him further, he barely made it under the covers before everything went dark.

 

* * *

 

_He's walking down the street. It's busy. Crowds of faceless people rush past him. He knows he wants to get to the cafe, but he can't read any of the signs above the shops he walks past. It's as if someone has placed a veil over his eyes._

_He keeps walking._

_Then, in the distance, he sees a flash of white and gold coming towards him._

_Dread washes over his body._

_He turns to the closest shop and opens the door, but just as he's about to step inside he sees that the entire shop is on fire. He lets the door close, but when he looks through the glass everything looks fine._

_He opens the door again._

_Fire._

_He feels a presence drawing closer so he runs to the next shop._

_Once again,_

_Fire._

_His panic intensifies as he runs to the next entrance._

_He hopes and hopes and opens the door._

_Fire._

_He knows that he's soon going to be out of time. He stands there holding the door open, considering taking his chances with the fire._

_And then something runs into his shoulder,_

_Hard._

_The impact forces his body to twist around and he starts to fall backwards into the open door._

_He feels as if he is falling in slow motion, and when he looks up all he sees are golden eyes—blazing—piercing into him._

_He can't look away. All he can do is fall and fall._

_And fall._

_Until the eyes consume him._

_And then everything is fire._

_He's surrounded by it everywhere he looks. He tries to get up off the ground, but something has fallen across his body and has him trapped. He feels his skin start to burn where the object lays heaviest._

_Smoke is everywhere. He can't breathe._

_He knows he's going to die._

_He burns._

_He burns and chokes on the smoke and—_

 

* * *

 

Delicate chiming announced his entrance into _Sound Body,_ the small health and wellness store where he worked. The moment he stepped through the door he was assaulted by the heavy smell of incense which did no favours for the headache he had been nursing since he woke up. The tranquil melody of a bamboo flute that was playing from the speakers in the ceiling started to grate on Keiji's nerves immediately. He gripped the strap of his satchel tightly and tried not to breathe through his nose.

On his way to the back of the store, where the break room was, he passed by the front counter. Sitting behind it on a stool was Ukai, reading the paper, a cigarette hanging from his mouth, and his artificially blonde hair kept back with a headband like it always was. In the six years that Keiji had known him, the man hadn't changed his hairstyle once, and Keiji was a little concerned that he never would. Suddenly he was struck with the image of himself standing over Ukai's casket, years from now, looking down at is decrepit body—skin sagging, spotted and wrinkled with age, and his thin, limp hair still that ungodly shade of not-quite-blonde, held back by that stupid headband. The image was not a pleasant one, and he did his best to suppress the shiver that threatened to rack through his body as he carried on his way.

"Hey kid," Ukai said as he passed, "Jeez, you look like shit. Start taking care of yourself, would ya?"

Keiji was going to start leaving the apartment wearing a paper bag over his head if he heard that one more time.

He stopped and looked down pointedly at the ashtray that was sitting on the counter. "And you are the very picture of a _Sound Body_."

"Listen smartass." He took the cigarette out of his mouth and tapped the ashes into the tray. "I'm an old man. I can treat my body however I want to."

Keiji clicked his tongue and said, "You're not even fifteen years older than me."

"Thirty-eight is practically forty." He placed the cigarette back into his mouth. "Which means I'm already half dead."

"More than half if you keep smoking," Keiji supplied.

"Ugh, you sound like your sister." Ukai picked his paper back up and waved his hand dismissively. "Get to work already."

"Keep burning more incense," Keiji said as he started walking away, "I'm certain Takeda won't notice you've been smoking in here."

"I said get to work!" Ukai called after him.

And Keiji was happy to do so, after what he'd been through yesterday, he was looking forward to the simple monotony of his work day. He walked through the shelves filled with herbs and oils, the scents of which were mixing regretfully with the incense in the air. He passed the shelf that held all of the awful tasting teas that Takeda used to make him and Masuyo drink all the time.  

When he reached the door to the break room, he opened it and stepped through the beaded curtain, having to shake his head when some of the strands caught in his curly hair. Inside, the room was cool and quiet except for the gentle hum of the mini fridge. A small lunch table was tucked in the back corner of the room, and that's where Keiji went to drop off his things.

When his bag and jacket were hung neatly on the back of one of the chairs, he stepped over to the fridge, opening it up and grabbing one of the many energy drinks he kept in stock there. With a loud crack that echoed through the room, he opened it and immediately took a large gulp. If his body wasn't going to cooperate and let him sleep, he was just going to have to poison it until it finally gave out. With that in mind he also grabbed the snack-sized bag of potato chips he'd packed in his satchel, and then left the break room to head back to the counter.

As he got closer to the front of the store he heard two voices, clearly arguing, and he knew right away that Takeda had shown up. Sure enough, when the counter came into view, there he was, holding his hand out while Ukai slapped his pack of smokes into it begrudgingly. Keiji did nothing to hide his smirk as he approached the two men.  

Ukai looked over at him, his eyes travelling down to the can in Keiji's hands, and scoffed, "Speaking of addictions."

Keiji took a very slow, deliberate sip before replying, "I don't sleep well."

Ukai opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Takeda. "The dreams, right?"

Keiji froze, his drink still close to his lips, and with narrowed eyes he turned to Takeda who was looking back at him with a concerned expression on his face. Lowering the can from his mouth, Keiji spoke, "Masuyo told you."

Smiling apologetically, Takeda responded, "She may have, yes."

Looking away, Keiji let out a _tch_ and shook his head. Normally he could trust his sister to keep those kinds of things to herself, but this time it seemed that her incessant need to meddle in other people's lives—or, more often than not, his life—had won out over her undying loyalty.   

He felt a hand on his arm but he kept his gaze set firmly on the small cactus that sat on the counter by the register.

"Don't be upset with your sister," Takeda's voice was as close to stern as it ever got, "You know she wouldn't have said anything unless she was really worried."

"Yeah, so quit glaring at the cactus like that or it'll catch fire."

Keiji set his glare on Ukai instead, but he was only met with a pair of crossed arms and a challenging raise of an eyebrow.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Keiji took a breath through his nose, and swallowed down his irritation. He relaxed his jaw and softened his eyes before turning back to Takeda, who gave him a reassuring smile.

"We just want you to be okay." He squeezed Keiji's arm once and then let go.

Attempting a small smile of his own, Keiji said, "I am okay, promise."

"Mh, you've said that before." Ukai's words were soft, not a note of accusation in his voice. There wasn't a reply that Keiji felt he could give to that, so he chose to sip his drink and stare at the floor instead.

"Ah, well Keishin," Takeda clapped his hands together. "I don't think this is the same as when you tell everyone you're going to quit smoking."

Keiji had always held an appreciation for Takeda's ability to steer a conversation away from murky waters. After shooting him a grateful look, he took up his post behind the counter. The two men continued to bicker with each other while Keiji got himself set up, leaving his drink and snack in the usual spot, and reorganising the mess that Ukai had left.

Eventually Takeda's loud but pleasant laugh rang through the store and Keiji looked up to see him shaking his head at Ukai with a fond smirk. He dug Ukai's cigarette pack out of his pocket and handed it to him. "Alright, go soothe your cravings _outside_ of the store. I'll be there in a moment."

With a dumb grin on his face, Ukai stuck a cigarette in his mouth, gave a nod and a wave to Keiji, and stepped outside. Through the shop window, Keiji watched him light up and take a long drag, blowing smoke out into the air. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Takeda approach the counter so he turned to him. Takeda was leaning with his elbows on the counter, one hand stretched out as if reaching for Keiji, and he made sure to get eye contact from him before he spoke.

"I'll trust what you say Keiji," His eyes were fierce and honest behind his glasses, "But I want you to know that you don't have to take refuge in the shadows anymore. I hope that someday you will understand that you can stay in the light and trust that we, your family, will protect you from whatever seeks to do you harm." Keiji swallowed thickly and dropped his gaze to his hands, tracing the tape around his damaged fingers while Takeda continued. "The shadows only make your demons harder to see," He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see a determined smile on Takeda's face. "But out here with us, we can help you to hold them off until the light burns them away entirely."

Keiji took a moment to compose himself and then gave the other man a wry smile. "Maybe someday I'll learn that lesson, Sensei."

A laugh broke out from Takeda and he shook his head while he walked towards the door. "Has anyone ever told you you're a pain in the ass?"

The rare use of poor language from the professor surprised a small chuckle from Keiji and he replied, "Masuyo, every time I speak with her."

"Ah, that doesn't surprise me." He opened the door and continued to speak over the gentle chiming, "Have a pleasant afternoon, Keiji."

With that he walked out of the shop and Keiji was left to his own devices. The first thing he did was reach under the counter to turn off the awful ambience music, switching to the radio instead. The music playing on the radio wasn't all that great, but it at least didn't hold up the expectation that he was supposed to be calm and happy.

Once that was done he scanned all of the shelves and checked the storage room to make sure nothing need to be restocked. By the looks of things it seemed that either Ukai had taken care of that already or they'd had no customers since he last worked.

With that out of the way all he had to do until lock-up was sit around and wait for customers to hopefully not need his help. So, he opened up his bag of chips and placed them on the counter where they were in easy reach. Then he grabbed the book that he kept on the shelf beneath the counter, sat down on the stool, and found the place he last left off. The book he was reading was comparatively more challenging than what he was used to, and he often found himself needing to look up the meanings of words, but it had been a celebration gift from Masuyo and fuck if he wasn't going to finish it.

 

Sometime later the wind chime over the door startled Keiji to attention. At some point he had stopped reading and was now only staring blankly at the page, so he was grateful for the distraction of a customer. Well that was until he looked up and saw who had walked through the door:

A whisper of a person shuffled past the counter, his oversized clothes threatening to drown him, and his poorly maintained bleached blonde hair hanging over his downturned face as usual. He kept his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, back hunched, as he made his way toward the incense shelf.

The kid hadn't been coming to their store for very long, but within the short time that he had, he'd become something of a regular customer. Keiji wouldn't have to help him with anything so he turned his eyes back down to his book, pretending to read as he waited for the inevitable. He didn't have to wait long as a few moments later he felt it; the heavy weight of someone's eyes on the side of his face. He sighed to himself and tried to ignore it, turning a page over deliberately.  Keiji wasn't exactly unused to being looked at by people, he was painfully aware of how pretty others thought him to be, but this kid made his skin crawl.

At first he thought it was just a crush, or something along those lines. When checking out, the kid would avoid direct eye contact with him and would become flustered if Keiji asked him a question. It wasn't until the day they had inadvertently locked eyes that Keiji felt the true intensity of the other's gaze; the kid looked at him like he could see through his skin—like he knew all of Keiji's secrets—and that unnerved him.

Keiji pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn't know why he was suddenly attracting the attention of creeps who didn't know how to keep up their hair, but he certainly wished he knew how to make it stop.

Eventually the staring became too much to bear and Keiji glanced over. The kid quickly turned his head away to hide behind his hair, grabbed what he came in for, and started back to the counter. When he got there he placed his small box of incense on the counter along with the money to pay for it. That's all he ever came for, except for the occasional tin of tea leaves.

"Are you sure you've found everything that you're looking for?" Keiji asked.

He had the pleasure of watching the kid jump before tilting his head up to look Keiji in the eye. Keiji met his stare evenly, putting all of his years on the street behind hit. The kid broke away and looked down at the counter before nodding his head.

"Good."

Keiji picked up the money, entered the total into the cash register, and then handed over the change. The kid snatched it out of his hand, picked up his box, and mumbled a low _thank you_ before rushing out of the shop.

Smirking, Keiji sat down. He found where he had left off in his book and continued reading.

All of ten seconds later the door chimed again. Still mildly irritated from before, he decided to ignore it. If a customer needed his help they could ask. It's not like there was a manager there that they could compl—

Suddenly there was a loud _smack_ as two meaty hands slammed down on the counter on either side of his book.

He froze only momentarily before his instincts kicked in and he grabbed the baseball bat that was kept under the counter and shot to his feet, sending the stool clattering to the floor.

Standing in front of him was the man with the golden eyes, hands held up placatingly, now a couple feet back from the counter.

"Hey, hey, hey," he said, "I'm only here to talk."

Keiji couldn't fucking believe it. "Get out of my store."

"Hang on and just listen, please." He took a tentative step forward. "I think I may have come off kinda strong before."

Keiji glared at him.

"Really strong," he amended, "But I'm not some sorta creep or nothing, I promise."

"Sure," Keiji put a hand on his hip and gestured around with the bat in his hand. "And tracking me down at my place of employment has certainly convinced me of that."

"Well shit," The man ran a hand through his wild hair. "You've got a point, but I- this seemed like the best chance I had of talking to you without you tryina' take off."

Keiji rolled his eyes. "You are not helping yourself."

The man put his face in his hands and made a frustrated noise. After that he straightened up and looked at Keiji determinately. "Just _please_ listen to what I have to say, and then if you don't wanna talk to me anymore after that, I'll leave."

Keiji mulled it over while looking the man up and down. If he had really wanted to hurt Keiji, he could have easily done it by now. Keiji may have measured up to him in height, but he didn't hold a candle to the muscled bulk the other man was carrying.

He looked back up to the man's face and was met with expectant eyes staring back at him.

"Fine," he said after a moment, "Say what you need to say and then leave."

A grin far too wide to be justified by anything Keiji had just said broke out across the man's face. "Okay," He took a deep breath. "When you ran into me on the sidewalk yesterday I noticed something about you." He scrunched up his eyebrows and bit his lip before continuing, "You're not like anyone I've ever met before. I don't know what it is, but there's something different about you."

Keiji snorted. "Is that supposed to be a come-on?"

"That's not what I-" The man huffed. "Jeez, would'ya stop assuming that I'm tryina' get into your pants or something and just listen to me!"

Keiji opened his mouth and then closed it, heat warming his face. He chewed on the inside of his cheek and nodded for the man to continue.   

"Thank you. What I was trying to say was- and you probably won't believe me but please just give me a chance." He put his hands up again and stepped forward so he was right against the counter.

"What I was trying to say was-" He repeated, looking seriously into Keiji's eyes, "I don't think that you're human."

There were a few beats of silence while the two men stared at one another. And once it was established that the other man was completely serious, Keiji, with all of the eloquence that he could muster, blinked and said, "What?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He honestly has no chill. Help him.
> 
> Next chapter we actually get some legit BokuAka interaction, and Kuroo shows his beautiful face!
> 
> I'm going to try and update once a month at least, as I'd prefer this not take ten years to finish, but I don't want to promise anything because I'm very unorganized all the time. Please feel free to leave some [constructive] criticism if you think there's anything I can improve. I've never written anything like this before, so I'd love to know if there's anything that's working/not working. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [Tumblr](http://livecement.tumblr.com/) where I have very little to offer


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